TRAINSPOTTING
Screenplay by John Hodge
Based on the Novel by Irvine Welsh
Shooting Draft
EXT. STREET - DAY
Legs run along the pavement. They are Mark Renton's.
Just ahead of him is Spud. They are both belting along.
As they travel, various objects (pens, tapes, CDs,
toiletries, ties, sunglasses, etc.) either fall or are
discarded from inside their jackets.
They are pursued by two hard-looking Store Detectives in
identical uniforms. The men are fast, but Renton and Spud
maintain their lead.
RENTON (V.O.)
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose
a career. Choose a family, Choose
a fucking big television, Choose
washing machines, cars, compact
disc players, and electrical tin
openers.
Suddenly, as Renton crosses a road, a car skids to a halt,
inches from him.
In a moment of detachment he stops and looks at the shocked
driver, then at Spud, who has continued running, then at
the Two Men, who are now closing in on him.
He smiles.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT ROOM - DAY
In a bare, dingy room, Renton lies on the floor, alone,
motionless and drugged.
RENTON (V.O.)
Choose good health, low cholesterol
and dental insurance. Choose fixed-
interest mortgage repayments. Choose
a starter home. Choose your friends.
EXT. FOOTBALL PITCH - NIGHT
On a flood lit five-a-side pitch, Renton and his friends
are taking on another team at football.
The opposition all wear an identical strip (Arsenal),
whereas Renton and his friends wear an odd assortment of
gear.
Three girls -- Lizzy, Gail, and Allison and Baby -- stand
by the side, watching.
The boys are outclassed by the team with the strip but
play much dirtier.
As each performs a characteristic bit of play, the play
freezes and their name is visible, printed or written on
some item of clothing. (T-Shirt, baseball cap, shorts,
trainers). In Begbie's case, his name appears as a tatoo
on his arm.
Sick Boy commits a sneaky foul and indignantly denies it.
Begbie commits an obvious foul and make no effort to deny
it.
Spud, in goal, lets the ball in between his legs.
Tommy kicks the ball as hard as he can.
Renton's litany continues over the action:
RENTON (V.O.)
Choose leisure wear and matching
luggage. Choose a three piece suite
on hire purchase in a range of
fucking fabrics. Choose D.I.Y and
wondering who you are on a Sunday
morning. Choose sitting on that
couch watching mind-numbing sprit-
crushing game shows, stuffing
fucking junk food into your mouth.
Choose rotting away at the end of
it all, pishing you last in a
miserable home, nothing more than
an embarrassment to the selfish,
fucked-up brats you have spawned
to replace yourself. Choose your
future. Choose life.
Renton is hit straight in the face by the ball. He lies
back on the astroturf. Voice-over continues.
But who would I want to do a thing like that?
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton lies on the floor.
Swanney, Allison and Baby, Sick Boy and Spud are shooting
up or preparing to shoot up. Sick Boy is talking to Allison
as he taps up a vein on her arm.
RENTON (V.O.)
I chose not to choose life: I chose
something else. And the reasons?
There are no reasons. Who need
reasons when you've got heroin?
SICK BOY
Goldfinger's better than Dr. No.
Both of them are a lot better than
Diamonds are Forever a judgement
reflected in its relative poor
showing at the box office, in which
field, of course, Thunderball was
a notable success.
RENTON (V.O.)
People think it's all about misery
and desperation and death and all
that shite, which is not to be
ignored, but what they forget -
Spud is shooting up for the pleasure
of it. Otherwise we wouldn't do
it. After all, we're not fucking
stupid. At least, we're not that
fucking stupid. Take the best orgasm
you ever had, multiply it by a
thousand and you're still nowhere
near it. When you're on junk you
have only one worry: scoring. When
you're off it you are suddenly
obliged to worry about all sorts
of other shite. Got no money: can't
get pished. Got money: drinking
too much. Can't get a bird: no
chance of a ride. Got a bird: too
much hassle. You have to worry
about bills, about food, about
some football team that never
fucking wins, about human
relationships and all the things
that really don't matter when you've
got a sincere and truthful junk
habit.
SICK BOY
I would say, in those days, he was
a muscular actor, in every sense,
with all the presence of someone
like Cooper or Lancaster, but
combined with a sly wit to make
him a formidable romantic lead,
closer in that respect to Cary
Grant.
RENTON (V.O.)
The only drawback, or at least the
principal drawback, is that you
have to endure all manner of cunts
telling you that -
INT. PUB I - NIGHT
Begbie, smoking and drinking, speaks to camera.
BEGBIE
No way would I poison my body with
that shite, all they fucking
chemicals, no fucking way.
INT. PUB I - NIGHT
Tommy sits beside Lizzy. He speaks to camera.
TOMMY
It's a waste of your life, Rents,
poisoning your body with that shite.
INT. RENTON FAMILY HOME, LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Renton's father and mother sit at the table eating.
Renton is seated but not eating.
FATHER
Every chance you've ever had, you've
blown it, stuffing your veins with
that filth.
INT. ELECTRICAL RETAILERS - DAY
Gav wears the corporate jacket.
GAV
Get off that stuff, Rents and get
a job. It's not as bad as it looks.
While you're here, you don't fancy
buying a cooker, do you?
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Sick Boy and Spud lie drugged up. Allison and Baby wait
while Swanney cooks up.
Renton is standing up.
RENTON
From time to time, even I have
uttered the magic words.
SWANNEY
Are you serious?
RENTON
Yeah. No more. I'm finished with
that shite.
SWANNEY
Well, it's up to you.
RENTON
I'm going to get it right this
time. Going to get it set up and
get off it for good.
SWANNEY
Sure, sure. I've heard it before.
RENTON
The Sick Boy method.
THEY BOTH LOOK AT SICK BOY
SWANNEY
Yeah, well, it surely worked for
him.
RENTON
He's always been lacking in moral
fibre.
SWANNEY
He knows a lot about Sean Connery.
RENTON
That's hardly a substitute.
SWANNEY
you'll need one more hit.
RENTON
No, I don't think so.
SWANNEY
To see you through the night that
lies ahead.
Freeze Frame on Swanney.
RENTON (V.O.)
We called him the mother superior
on account of the length of his
habit. He knew all about it. On
it, off it, he knew it all. Of
course I'd have another shot: after
all, I had work to do.
INT. RENTON'S FLAT ROOM - DAY
The door opens and Renton enters carrying shopping bags.
He empties them on to a mattress beside three buckets and
a television.
RENTON (V.O.)
Relinquishing junk. Stage One:
preparation. For this you will
need: one room which you will not
leave; one mattress; tomato soup,
ten tins of; mushroom soup, eight
tins of, for consumption cold; ice
cream, vanilla, one large tub of;
Magnesia, Milk of, one bottle;
paracetamol; mouth wash; vitamins;
mineral water; Lucozade;
pornography; one bucket for urine,
one for feces, and one for vomitus;
one television; and one bottle of
Valium, which I have already
procured, from my mother, who is,
in her own domestic and socially
acceptable way, also a drug addict.
Renton swallows several Valium tablets. Voice-over
continues.
And now I'm ready. All I need is a final hit to soothe the
pain while the Valium takes effect.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Swanney, Sick Boy, Spud and Allison and Baby all lie inert
while the telephone rings.
INT. CALL BOX - DAY
Renton curses as he slams down the receiver. He dials again.
RENTON
Mikey. It's Mark Renton. Can you
help me out?
INT. MIKEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton holds two opium suppositories in the palm of his
hand.
RENTON (V.O.)
This was typical of Mikey Forrester.
(on screen)
What the fuck are these? Under
the normal run of things I would
have had nothing to do with the
cunt, but this was not the normal
run of things.
MIKEY
Opium suppositories. Ideal for
your purpose. Slow release, like.
Bring you down gradually. Custom
fucking designed for your needs.
RENTON
I want a fucking hit.
MIKEY
That's all I've got: take it or
leave it.
Renton sticks his hand down the back of his trousers and
sticks the suppositories into his rectum.
MIKEY
Feel better now?
RENTON
For all the good they've done me I
might as well have stuck them up
my arse.
He smiles.
EXT. STREET - DAY
RENTON (V.O.)
Heroin makes you constipated. The
heroin from my last hit is fading
away and the suppositories have
yet to melt. I am no longer
constipated.
He looks around the local amenities. He is in discomfort,
clutching his abdomen and falling to his knees.
He notices a betting shop.
INT. BETTING SHOP - DAY
Renton walks through the crowded, smoky betting shop towards
a door marked 'toilet' with a bit of card.
RENTON (V.O.)
I fantasize about massive pristine
convenience.
He stumbles through.
RENTON (V.O.)
Brilliant gold taps, virginal white
marble, a seat carved from ebony,
a cistern full of Chanel No. 5,
and a flunky handing me pieces of
raw silk toilet roll. But under
the circumstances I'll settle for
anywhere.
INT. HORRIBLE TOILET - DAY
This is the most horrible toilet in Britain.
Alone, Renton makes his way through the horrors to a
cubicle.
INT. HORRIBLE TOILET CUBICLE - DAY
Renton locks the door.
He looks into the bowl and winces with disgust, even in
his state.
He pulls the chain. The chain comes off.
He drops his trousers, sits on the bowl and closes his
eyes.
MONTAGE
A lorry on a building site dumps a load of bricks, B52's
shed their load on Vietnam, the Blue Peter elephant, etc.
INT. CUBICLE - DAY
Renton has his eyes closed. They snap open.
He looks down between his legs.
He drops to his knees in front of the bowl and rolls his
sleeve up.
With no more hesitation he plunges his arm into the bowl
and trawls for the suppositories.
It seems to take ages. He cannot find them. He sticks his
arm further and further into the toilet, moving his whole
body close. He strains to find it.
His head is over the bowl now. Gradually he reaches still
further until his head is lowered into the bowl, followed
by his neck, torso, other arm, and finally his legs, all
disappearing.
The cubicle is empty.
INT. UNDER WATER - DAY
Renton, dressed as before, swims through murky depths until
he reaches the bottom, where he picks up the suppositories,
which glow like luminous pearls, before heading up towards
the surface again.
INT. HORRIBLE TOILET CUBICLE - DAY
The toilet is empty.
Suddenly Renton appears through the bowl, then his arms as
he lifts himself out. Still clasping his two suppositories,
he walks out of the toilet.
INT. RENTON'S ROOM - DAY
The mattress, buckets and supplies are laid out as before.
The door opens and Renton enters, still soaking and
dripping.
The suppositories are in his hand. He holds them up, and
they twinkle in the light.
RENTON
Now. Now I'm ready.
INT. RENTON'S ROOM - DAY
The cans of soup, the bottle of water, and the carton of
ice cream are empty, the bottle of pills spilt, the
magazines well thumbed.
SICK BOY
You Only Live Twice?
RENTON
Nineteen-sixty-seven.
SICK BOY
Running time?
RENTON
One hundred and sixteen minutes.
SICK BOY
Director?
RENTON
Lewis Gilbert.
SICK BOY
Screenwriter?
RENTON
Eh - Ian Fleming?
SICK BOY
Fuck off! He never wrote any of
them.
RENTON
OK, so who was it, then?
SICK BOY
You can look it up.
Sick Boy throws across a worn copy of a film guide.
Renton cannot be bothered to pick it up.
How are you feeling since you came off the skag? For myself,
I'm bored.
RENTON
Who wrote it?
SICK BOY
But you're looking better, it has
to be said. Healthier. Radiant
even.
RENTON
You don't know, do you?
SICK BOY
And I wondered if you'd care to go
to the park tomorrow.
RENTON
The park?
SICK BOY
Tomorrow afternoon. Usual set-up.
RENTON
Who wrote it?
SICK BOY
Roald Dahl.
RENTON
Roald Dahl. Fuck me.
EXT. PARK - DAY
Typical weather, neither good nor bad. The park is
nondescript arid green with a few bushes. This is not Kew
Gardens. Renton and Sick Boy appear, dressed as before but
for the addition of cheap sunglasses.
Renton is carrying a battered old cassette player and a
carry-out in a plastic bag.
Sick Boy is carrying a small, tatty suitcase from Oxfam.
They scan the horizon and give each other the nod. They
walk towards the bushes.
RENTON (V.O.)
The down side of coming off junk
was that I knew I would need to
mix with my friends again in a
state of full consciousness. It
was awful: they reminded me so
much of myself I could hardly bear
to look at them. Take Sick Boy,
for instance, he came off junk at
the same time as me, not because
he wanted too, you understand, but
just to annoy me, just to show me
how easily he could do it, thereby
downgrading my own struggle. Sneaky
fucker, don't you think? And when
all I wanted to do was lie along
and feel sorry for myself, he
insisted on telling me once again
about his unifying theory of life.
EXT. PARK - DAY
Seen through the telescopic sight of an air rifle that
wanders over various potential targets (children,
pensioners, couples, gardeners, etc.).
SICK BOY
It's certainly a phenomenon in all
walks of life.
RENTON
What do you mean?
SICK BOY
Well, at one time, you've got it,
and then you lose it, and it's
gone for ever. All walks of life:
George Best, for example, had it
and lost it, or David Bowie, or
Lou Reed -
RENTON
Some of his solo stuff's not bad.
SICK BOY
No, it's not bad, but it's not
great either, is it? And in your
heart you kind of know that although
it sounds all right, it's actually
just shite.
RENTON
So who else?
SICK BOY
Charlie Nicholas, David Niven,
Malcolm McLaren, Elvis Presley. -
RENTON
OK, OK, so what's the point you're
trying to make?
EXT. PARK - DAY
Sick Boy rests the gun down.
SICK BOY
All I'm trying to do is help you
understand that The Name of the
Rose is merely a blip on an
otherwise uninterrupted downward
trajectory.
RENTON
What about The Untouchables?
SICK BOY
I don't rate that at all.
RENTON
Despite the Academy award?
SICK BOY
That means fuck all. The sympathy
vote.
RENTON
Right. So we all get old and then
we can't hack it any more. Is that
it?
SICK BOY
Yeah.
RENTON
That's your theory?
SICK BOY
Yeah, Beautifully fucking
illustrated.
RENTON
Give me the gun.
EXT. PARK - DAY
THROUGH THE SIGHT AGAIN. THIS TIME A SKINHEAD AND HIS
MUSCLE-BOUND DOG ARE IN VIEW
Sick Boy and Renton talk like Sean Connery.
SICK BOY
Do you see the beast? Have you got
it in you sights?
RENTON
Clear enough, Moneypenny. This
should present no significant
problem.
The gun fires and the dog yelps, jumps up and bites its
owner (the Skinhead).
SICK BOY
For a vegetarian, Rents, you're a
fucking evil shot.
EXT. PARK - DAY
Renton loads up again.
RENTON (V.O.)
Without heroin, I attempted to
lead a useful and fulfilling life
as a good citizen.
INT. CAFÉ - DAY
Two milk-shakes clink together.
Renton and Spud and seated at a booth, dressed in their
own fashion for job interviews.
RENTON
Good luck, Spud.
SPUD
Cheers.
RENTON
Now remember --
SPUD
Yeah.
RENTON
If they think you're not trying,
you're in trouble. First hint of
that, they'll be on to the DSS,
'This cunt's no trying' and your
Giro is fucking finished, right?
SPUD
Right.
RENTON
But try too hard --
SPUD
And you might get the fucking job.
RENTON
Exactly.
SPUD
Nightmare.
RENTON
It's a tightrope, Spud, a fucking
tightrope.
SPUD
My problem is that I tend to clam
up. I go dumb and I can't answer
any questions at all. Nerves on
the big occasion, like a footballer.
RENTON
Try this.
Renton unfolds silver foil to reveal some amphetamine.
Spud dips in a finger and takes a dab. He nods in
appreciation as he tastes it. Renton leaves the packet in
Spud's hand.
SPUD
A little dab of speed is just the
ticket.
INT. INTERVIEW OFFICE - DAY
A Woman and Two Men (1 and 2) are interviewing Renton. His
job application form is on the desk in front of them.
MAN 1
Well, Mr. Renton, I see that you
attended the Royal Edinburgh
College.
RENTON
Indeed, yes, those halcyon days.
MAN 1
One of Edinburgh's finest schools.
RENTON
Oh, yes, indeed. I look back on my
time there with great fondness and
affection. The debating society,
the first eleven, the soft know of
willow on leather --
MAN 1
I'm an old boy myself, you know?
RENTON
Oh, really?
MAN 1
Do you recall the school motto?
RENTON
Of course, the motto, the motto --
MAN 1
Strive, hope, believe and conquer.
RENTON
Exactly. Those very words have
been my guiding light in what is,
after all, a dark and often hostile
world.
Renton looks pious under scrutiny.
MAN 2
Mr. Renton --
RENTON
Yes.
MAN 2
You seem eminently suited to this
post but I wonder if you could
explain the gaps in your employment
record?
RENTON
Yes, I can. The truth -- well, the
truth is that I've had a long-
standing problem with heroin
addiction. I've been know to sniff
it, smoke it, swallow it, stick it
up my arse and inject it into my
veins. I've been trying to combat
this addiction, but unless you
count social security scams and
shoplifting, I haven't had a regular
job in years. I feel it's important
to mention this.
There is silence.
A paper clip crashes to the floor.
INT. OFFICE - DAY
The same office. The same team are interviewing Spud.
SPUD
No, actually I went to Craignewton
but I was worried that you wouldn't
have heard of it so I put the Royal
Edinburgh College instead, because
they're both schools, right, and
we're all in this together, and I
wanted to put across the general
idea rather than the details, yeah?
People get all hung up on details,
but what's the point? Like which
school? Does it matter? Why? When?
Where? Or how many O grades did I
get? Could be six, could be one,
but that's not important. What's
important is that I am, right?
That I am.
MAN 1
Mr. Murphy, do you mean that you
lied on your application?
SPUD
Only to get my foot in the door.
Showing initiative, right?
MAN 1
You were referred here by the
Department of Employment. There's
no need for you to get you "foot
in the door", as you put it.
SPUD
Hey. Right. No problem. Whatever
you say, man. You're the man, the
governor, the dude in the chair,
like. I'm merely here. But obviously
I am. Here, that is. I hope I'm
not talking too much. I don't
usually. I think it's all important
though, isn't it?
MAN 2
Mr. Murphy, what attracts you to
the leisure industry?
SPUD
In a word, pleasure. My pleasure
in other people's leisure.
WOMAN
What do you see as your main
strengths?
SPUD
I love people. All people. Even
people that no one else loves, I
think they're OK, you know. Like
Beggars.
WOMAN
Homeless people?
SPUD
No, not homeless people. Beggars,
Francis Begbie -- one of my mates.
I wouldn't say my best mate, I
mean, sometimes the boy goes over
the score, like one time when we --
me and him -- were having a laugh
and all of a sudden he's fucking
gubbed me in the face, right --
WOMAN
Mr. Murphy, {leaving your friend
aside,} do you see yourself as
having any weaknesses?
SPUD
No. Well, yes. I have to admit it:
I'm a perfectionist. For me, it's
the best or nothing at all. If
things go badly, I can't be
bothered, but I have a good feeling
about this interview. Seems to me
like it's gone pretty well. We've
touched on a lot of subjects, a
lot of things to think about, for
all of us.
MAN 1
Thank you, Mr. Murphy. We'll let
you know.
SPUD
The pleasure was mine. Best
interview I've ever been to. Thanks.
Spud crosses the room to shake everyone by the hand and
kiss them.
RENTON (V.O.)
Spud had done well. I was proud of
him. He fucked up good and proper.
INT. PUB 1 - DAY
Renton and Spud meet up after the interviews.
SPUD
A little too well, if anything, a
little too well, that's my only
fear, compadre.
RENTON
Another dab?
SPUD
Would not say no, would not say
no.
INT. OFFICE - DAY
The Woman and Two Men sit in silence.
INT. PUB 2 - NIGHT
It is Saturday night in a busy, city-centre pub on two
levels. On a large upper balcony, overlooking the bar and
floor downstairs, sit Spud, Gail, Renton, Sick Boy, Tommy,
Lizzy and Begbie.
Begbie's story overlaps with the subsequent depiction of
the incident.
BEGBIE (V.O.)
Picture the scene. Wednesday morning
in the Volley. Me and Tommy are
playing pool. No problems, and I'm
playing like Paul fucking Newman
by the way. I'm giving the boy
here the tanning of a lifetime. So
anyway, it comes to the final ball,
the deciding shot of the tournament:
I'm on the black and he's sitting
in the corner, looking all biscuit-
arsed. Then this hard cunt comes
in. Obviously fancied himself.
Starts looking at me. Right fucking
at me. Trying to put off, like,
just for kicks. Looking at me as
if to say, 'Come ahead, square
go.' Well, you know me, I'm no
looking for trouble but at the end
of the day I'm the cunt with the
pool cue and I'm game for a swedge.
So I squared up, casual like. So
what does the hard cunt do, or so-
called hard cunt? Shites it. Puts
down his drink, turns around and
gets the fuck out of there. And
after that, the game was mine.
INT. POOL HALL - DAY
The events in the pool hall, as described by Begbie.
Begbie and Tommy are playing pool.
Begbie is playing like a wizard.
Tommy looks defeated.
Lining up for the final ball, Begbie is distracted by a
large Hard Man standing at the bar staring at him.
Begbie stands up and walks slowly towards the Hard Man.
They stand, eye to eye, for a moment.
Begbie swings the pool cue slowly into his palm.
The Hard Man turns and leaves.
Begbie drinks the Hard Man's pint, then pots the black
with a brilliant shot.
INT. PUB 2 - DAY
Begbie, his story complete, finishes his pint. The others
continue to stare at him, frozen as though expecting
something more. Begbie smiles and throws the pint over his
head.
Freeze-frame: the glass in mid-air and Begbie's smiling
face.
RENTON (V.O.)
And that was it. That was Begbie's
story. Or at least that was Begbie's
version of the story. But a couple
of days later I got the truth from
Tommy. It was one of his major
weaknesses: he never told lies,
never took drugs, and never cheated
on anyone.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT. DAY
Renton's hand flicks through a long row of videos on the
floor while the sound of weights being lifted (by Tommy)
emanates from nearby.
Most of the videos are feature films or comedy shows, some
with titles written in Tommy's hand, but two catch Renton's
attention.
They are 100 Great Goals and Tommy and Lizzy Vol. 1, the
latter a handwritten title.
Renton looks from the video round to Tommy, who is engrossed
in lifting weights.
TOMMY
Well, sure it was Wednesday morning,
we were in the Volley playing pool,
that much is true.
INT. POOL HALL - DAY
Tommy's account over a depiction of his version.
TOMMY (V.O.)
But Begbie is playing absolutely
fucking gash. He's got a hangover
so bad he can hardly hold the
fucking cue, never mind pot the
ball. I'm doing my best to lose,
trying to humour him, like, but
it's not doing any good: every
time I touch the ball I pot
something, every time Begbie goes
near the table he fucks it up. So
he's got the hump, right, but
finally I manage to set it up so
all he's go to do is pot the black
to win one game and salvage a little
pride and maybe not kick my head
in, right. So he's on the black,
pressure shot, and it all goes
wrong, big time. What does he do?
Picks on this specky wee gadge at
the bar and accuses him of putting
him off by looking at him. Can you
believe it? I mean, the poor cunt
hasn't even glanced in our
direction. He's sitting there quiet
as a mouse when Beggars gubs him
with the cue. He was going to chib
him, I tell you, then I thought he
was going to do me. The Beggar is
fucking psycho, but he's a mate,
you know, so what can you do?
THE EVENTS ARE AS FOLLOWS:
Begbie and Tommy are playing pool.
Begbie, furious, miscues, goes in off, etc.
Tommy deliberately misses sitters and tries to look annoyed.
Begbie lines up to play the black. It is unmissable.
At the bar beyond sits a harmless young Man, wearing the
same clothes as the Hard Man in Begbie's account except
that they are now baggy rather than taut. He is clearly
not staring at Begbie but drinks a half-pint and eats some
crisps.
As Begbie plays, the Man bites a crisp.
Begbie miscues, rips the cloth and the ball flies off the
table.
Tommy catches it and looks up to see Begbie assaulting the
young Man.
Tommy cautiously restrains Begbie and he reaches into his
jacket for a knife.
Begbie turns and for a moment looks as though he might
attack Tommy.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT. DAY
Tommy puts down his weights.
Renton holds up 100 Great Goals.
RENTON
Can I borrow this one?
INT. PUB 2 - NIGHT
The freeze-frame of the glass in mid-air and Begbie's
smiling face.
RENTON (V.O.)
Yeah, the guy's a psycho, but it's
true, he's a mate as well, so what
can you do? Just stand back and
watch and try not to get involved.
Begbie didn't do drugs either, he
just did people. That what he got
off on: his own sensory addiction.
The glass falls into the crowd.
Screaming starts. A Woman is bleeding from a wound in her
head. The Men beside her turn furiously around to look for
the source of the glass.
Up on the balcony, Begbie stands up. The screams and
shouting continue below.
Begbie appears at the bottom of the staircase down from
the balcony.
He strides towards the bleeding Woman and begins shouting.
BEGBIE
All right. Nobody move. The girl
got glassed and no cunt leaves
here until we find out which cunt
did it.
A man stands up from one of the tables.
MAN
And who the fuck do you think you
are?
Begbie kick the Man in the groin. Another moves towards
him but is blocked by the Men surrounding the girl. Soon
the whole mass dissolves into a brutal scrum, in which
Begbie plays a prominent part.
Up on the balcony, the rest of the gang watch in silence.
INT. RENTON'S FLAT - DAY
The empty cover for 100 Great Goals lies on the floor.
Sick Boy and Renton sit dispassionately watching Tommy and
Lizzy in their home-made soft-porn video.
RENTON (V.O.)
And as I sat watching the intimate
and highly personal video, stolen
only hours earlier from one of my
best friends, I realized that
something important was missing
from my life.
INT. CLUB - NIGHT
A mass of dancing bodies fills the floor. The music is
very loud.
At the side of the dance floor sit Tommy and Spud. The
look rather gloomy. There is an empty seat beside each of
them. Spud is drinking heavily.
Tommy turns and speaks to Spud. His lips move but nothing
is audible. Spud is not ever aware that Tommy has spoken.
Tommy bellows in Spud's ear.
Tommy's words and all subsequent conversation in the dance
area of the club appear as subtitles, the character's
communications somewhere between speech and mime.
TOMMY
How's it going with Gail?
SPUD
No joy yet.
TOMMY
How long is it?
SPUD
Six weeks.
TOMMY
Six weeks!
SPUD
It's a nightmare. She told me she
didn't want our relationship to
start on a physical basis as that
is how it would be principally
defined from then on in.
TOMMY
Where did she come up with that?
SPUD
She read it in Cosmopolitan.
TOMMY
Six weeks and no sex?
SPUD
I've got balls like watermelons,
I'm telling you.
INT. NIGHTCLUB, WOMEN'S TOILET - NIGHT
Gail and Lizzy are smoking and talking.
GAIL
I read it in Cosmopolitan.
LIZZY
It's an interesting theory.
GAIL
Actually it's a nightmare. I've
been desperate for a shag, but
watching him suffer was just too
much fun. You should try it with
Tommy.
LIZZY
What, and deny myself the only
pleasure I get from him? Did I
tell you about my birthday?
GAIL
What happened?
LIZZY
He forgot. Useless motherfucker.
INT. NIGHTCLUB. DANCE AREA - NIGHT
Tommy and Spud seated as before. Their words are subtitled.
As they are speaking Gail and Lizzy return and sit down.
TOMMY
Useless motherfucker, that's what
she called me. I told her, I'm
sorry, but theses things happen.
Let's put it behind us.
SPUD
That's fair enough.
TOMMY
Yes, but then she finds out I've
bought a ticket for Iggy Pop the
same night.
SPUD
Went ballistic?
TOMMY
Big time. Absolutely fucking radge.
'It's me or Iggy Pop, time to
decide.'
SPUD
So what's it going to be?
TOMMY
Well, I've paid for the ticket.
GAIL AND LIZZY
What are you two talking about?
TOMMY AND SPUID
Football. What were you talking
about?
GAIL AND LIZZY
Shopping Standing nearby but apart
from them is Renton.
Renton notes Spud and Tommy with their partners, and across
the other side Sick Boy and Begbie are engaged in
flirtatious conversation with Two Women.
RENTON (V.O.)
The situation was becoming serious.
Young Renton noticed the haste
with which the successful, in the
sexual sphere as in all others,
segregated themselves from the
failures.
Begbie and Sick Boy with the Two Women.
Renton standing among a group of lone nerds.
Renton wades on to the dance floor, looking at countless
women, all whom either turn away or are spoken for.
RENTON (V.O.)
Heroin had robbed Renton of his
sex drive, but now it returned
with a vengeance. And as the
impotence of those days faded into
memory, grim desperation took hold
in his sex-crazed mind. His post-
junk libido, fuelled by alcohol
and amphetamine, taunted him
remorselessly with his own
unsatisfied desire dot.
Renton notices one girl (Diane) walking on her own towards
the door.
A Man carrying two drinks catches up with her and walks
backwards, talking to her.
She says nothing. He blocks her way.
She takes one drink and downs it, then the other, handing
him back the empty glasses. She steps past him and walks
on towards the door.
RENTON (V.O.)
And with that, Mark Renton had
fallen in love.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
The Girl walks away from the club, scanning the street for
a taxi, and hail one which stops just as Renton calls out.
RENTON
Excuse me, I don't mean to harass
you, but I was very impressed by
the capable and stylish manner in
which you dealt with that situation.
I thought to myself: she's special.
DIANE
Thanks.
RENTON
What's your name?
DIANE
Diane.
RENTON
Where are you going, Diane?
DIANE
I'm going home.
RENTON
Where's that?
DIANE
It's where I live.
RENTON
Great.
DIANE
What?
RENTON
I'll come back if you like, but
I'm not promising anything.
Diane halts abruptly as a taxi pulls up.
DIANE
Do you find that this approach
usually works, or, let me guess,
you've never tried it before. In
fact, you don't normally approach
girls, am I right? The truth is
that you're a quite, sensitive
type but if I'm prepared to take a
chance I might just get to know
the inner you: witty, adventurous,
passionate, loving, loyal, a little
bit crazy, a little bit bad, but,
hey, don't us girls just love that?
RENTON
Eh-
DIANE
Well, what's wrong, boy? Cat got
your tongue.
RENTON
think I left something back at the -
The girl has disappeared into the back of the taxi.
Renton looks around.
TAXI DRIVER
Are you getting in or not, pal?
EXT. ROAD - NIGHT
The taxi motors along.
INT. TAXI - NIGHT
Renton and Diane are kissing passionately in the back.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
Spud is pushed against the wall held by his lapels. He
drinks from a bottle of beer in one hand.
GAIL
Do you understand?
Spud nods drunkenly.
Gail releases her grip.
Our relationship is not being redefined; it is developing
in an appropriate, organic fashion. I expect you to be a
considerate and thoughtful lover, generous but firm. Failure
on your part to live up to these very reasonable
expectations will result in swift resumption of a non-sex
situation. Right?
Spud drinks from a bottle in the other hand and says nothing
but he does not look too happy.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - NIGHT
Tommy and Lizzy kiss while Tommy unlocks the door.
INT. DIANE'S HOME, HALLWAY - NIGHT
In a darkened suburban hallway, the door opens and two
figures enter.
RENTON
Diane.
DIANE
Ssshh!
RENTON
Sorry.
DIANE
Shut up.
They walk through another door and close it behind them.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - NIGHT
Tommy and Lizzy kiss against the inside of the door, taking
their outer clothes off.
INT. DIANE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
By a pale bedside light, Diane and Renton undress.
INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Spud is lying unconscious on the bed. Gail stands over
him.
GAIL
Wake up, Spud, wake up. Sex.
She kicks him. He moans.
GAIL
Casual sex.
She kicks him again. He moans again.
GAIL
You useless bastards. So, let's
see what I'm missing.
She begins undressing him.
INT. DIANE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Renton lies on his back while Diane rides above him.
INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM. NIGHT
Gail throws Spud's clothes to the floor and throws a blanket
over him.
GAIL
Not much.
She switches out the light.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - NIGHT
Tommy and Lizzy now lie on the bed in a state of semi-
undress.
LIZZY
Tommy, let's put the tape on.
TOMMY
Now?
LIZZY
Yes, I want to watch ourselves
while we're screwing.
TOMMY
Fuck, OK.
Tommy gets up and reaches into the row of videos on the
floor. He lifts out Tommy and LIzzy, Vol. 1 and hastily
shoves it into the video.
Tommy sits back on the bed with the remote control and
presses 'play' as Lizzy kisses him.
His face registers consternation.
On the television, Archie Gemmill scores his famous goal
against Holland in 1978.
INT. DIANE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Renton and Diane climax together.
Diane immediately climbs off and wraps herself in a robe.
RENTON
Christ, I haven't felt that good
since Archie Gemmill scored against
Holland in 1978.
DIANE
Right. You can't sleep here.
RENTON
What?
DIANE
Out.
RENTON
Come on.
DIANE
No argument. You can sleep on the
sofa in the living room, or go
home. It's up to you.
RENTON
Jesus.
DIANE
And don't make any noise.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - NIGHT
The lights are full on now. Lizzy sits on the bed clutching
a blanket around herself.
Tommy hops around in his underwear, searching desperately.
All the videos are opened and scattered everywhere.
LIZZY
What do you mean, it's 'gone'?
Where has it gone, Tommy?
TOMMY
It'll be here somewhere. I might
have returned it by mistake.
LIZZY
Returned it? Where? To the video
shop, Tommy? To the fucking video
store? So every punter in Edinburgh
is jerking off to our video? God,
Tommy, I feel sick.
INT. DIANE'S HOME, LIVING-ROOM - MORNING
Renton lies submerged under a blanket.
The sounds of a normal morning travel from a room nearby:
whistles, radio, voices.
Renton peeps over the edge of the blanket, then covers his
head again.
INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM - MORNING
Spud opens his eyes. With his fingers, he feels crusted
liquid around his mouth.
Abruptly he turns around: the bed is soaked in vomit.
He looks under the cover and drops it again in revulsion.
INT. DIANE'S HOME, LIVING-ROOM - DAY
Renton pulls himself up off the sofa and dresses as quickly
as possible.
INT. GAIL'S BEDROOM - DAY
Spud wipes the vomit from his chest with a pillowcase,
which he dumps in the middle of the sheets before gathering
the whole lot up as a bundle.
INT. DIANE'S HOME, HALL/KITCHEN - DAY
The door swings open. A Man and a Woman, about Renton's
age, sit at the kitchen table. They look up to see Renton
in the doorway. MAN Good Morning.
WOMAN
Come in and sit down. You must be
Mark.
Renton walks to the table and sits down.
RENTON
Yes, that's me.
WOMAN
You're a friend of Diane's?
RENTON
More of a friend of a friend,
really.
MAN
Right.
RENTON
Are you her flatmates?
The couple exchange a look and laugh.
WOMAN
Flatmates. I must remember that
one.
The Man and Woman look beyond Renton. He too turns and
follows their gaze.
Diane stands in the doorway.
She is wearing school uniform.
INT. GAIL'S HOME, HALL/KITCHEN - DAY
The door swings open to reveal the kitchen. Gail, her
Father, and Mother are seated around the table, eating
breakfast. They look towards Spud, who carries the knotted
bundle of sheets as he approaches the table.
GAIL
Good morning, Spud.
SPUD
Morning, Gail. Morning, Mrs.
Houston, Mr. Houston.
MOTHER
Morning, Spud. Sit down and have
some breakfast.
SPUD
Sorry about last night -
GAIL
It's all right. I slept fine on
the sofa.
SPUD
I had a little too much to drink.
I'm afraid I had a slight accident.
FATHER
Oh, don't worry, these things
happen. It does everyone good to
cut loose once in a while.
GAIL
This one could do with being tied
up once in a while.
MOTHER
I'll put the sheets in the washing
machine just now.
SPUD
No, I'll wash them. I'll take them
home and bring them back.
MOTHER
There's no need.
SPUD
It's no problem.
MOTHER
No problem for me either. Honestly,
it's no problem.
SPUD
I'd really rather take care of it
myself.
MOTHER
Spud, they're my sheets.
She takes hold of the bundle.
Spud does not yield.
She pulls harder. Spud holds on. She tugs powerfully.
The bundle bursts open with an explosion of vomit and
excrement that covers everything in the kitchen.
Only Spud remains untouched.
SPUD
I guess this means I'll never get
to have sex with Gail.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - DAY
Tommy sits alone, watching 100 Great Goals
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton paces briskly down the street, followed by Diane.
DIANE
I don't see why not.
RENTON
Because it's illegal.
DIANE
Holding hands?
RENTON
No, not holding hands.
DIANE
In that case you can do it. You
were quite happy to do a lot more
last night.
RENTON
And that's what's illegal. Do you
know what they do to people like
me inside? They'd cut my balls off
and flush them down the fucking
toilet.
They stop at the school gates.
DIANE
Calm down. You're not going to
jail.
RENTON
Easy for you to say.
DIANE
Can I see you again?
RENTON
Certainly not.
Renton walks away.
DIANE
If you don't see me again I'll
tell the police.
Renton turns and walks back to her. They stand for a moment,
then Renton walks away again. Diane smiles.
(to herself)
I'll see you around then.
EXT. VIDEO STORE - DAY
In the cold light of morning, Tommy and Lizzy wait, not
speaking, outside the still-closed video store.
EXT. RAIL BRIDGE - DAY
A train speeds across.
INT. TRAIN - DAY
Sick Boy, Tommy, Spud and Renton sit drinking from an
extensive carry-out.
SICK BOY
This had better be good.
TOMMY
It will be. It'll make a change
for three miserable junkies who
don't know what they want to do
with themselves since they stopped
doing smack.
SICK BOY
If I'm giving up a whole day and
the price of a ticket, I'm just
saying it had better be good.
There's plenty of other things I
could be doing.
TOMMY
Such as?
SICK BOY
Such as sitting in a darkened room,
watching videos, drinking, smoking
dope and wanking. Does that answer
your question?
They sit in silence.
EXT. STATION - DAY
The station is in the middle of a moor. There appears to
be no habitation around. In the distance are some hills.
The train stands at the station.
As it pulls away, Renton, Spud, Tommy and Sick Boy are
left standing on the platform, looking around. SICK BOY
Now what?
TOMMY
We go for a walk.
SPUD
What?
TOMMY
A walk.
SPUD
But where?
Tommy points vaguely across the moor.
TOMMY
There.
SICK BOY
Are you serious?
They step across the tracks toward the vast moorland. They
stop.
All but Tommy sit down on rocks or clumps of heather.
TOMMY
Well, what are you waiting for?
SPUD
I don't know, Tommy. I don't know
if it's... normal.
A group of three serious Walkers trudge past from the other
end of the platform, decked out in regulation Berghaus
from head to foot. They tramp off towards the wilderness.
The boys watch them go.
Spud opens a can.
TOMMY
It's the great outdoors.
SICK BOY
It's really nice, Tommy. Can we go
home now?
TOMMY
It's fresh air.
SICK BOY
Look, Tommy, we know you're getting
a hard time off Lizzy, but there's
no need to take it out on us.
TOMMY
Doesn't it make you proud to be
Scottish?
RENTON
I hate being Scottish. We're the
lowest of the fucking low, the
scum of the earth, the most
wretched, servile, miserable,
pathetic trash that was ever shat
into civilization. Some people
hate the English, but I don't.
They're just wankers. We, on the
other hand, are colonized by
wankers. We can't even pick a decent
culture to be colonized by. We are
ruled by effete arseholes. It's a
shite state of affairs and all the
fresh air in the world will not
make any fucking difference.
The three serious Walkers are receding into the distance.
The boys troop back towards the platform.
RENTON (V.O.)
At or around this time, we made a
healthy, informed, democratic
decision to get back on drugs as
soon as possible. It took about
twelve hours.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton hands over money to Swanney.
Renton then begins cooking up.
Also present and cooking or shooting up are Spud, Swanney,
Allison and Baby, and Sick Boy.
RENTON (V.O.)
It looks easy, this, but it's not.
It looks like a doss, like a soft
option, but living like this, it's
a full-time business.
He injects.
INT. SHOP - DAY
Renton, Spud, and Sick Boy are stuffing objects into their
shirts and pockets.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton lies back, narcotized.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton and Spud are running along the street.
Two uniformed Store Detectives are running after them.
Sick Boy stands in a doorway. As the Detectives run past,
he strolls away in the opposite direction.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton lies back as before.
SICK BOY
Ursula Andress was the
quintessential Bond girl. That's
what everyone says. The embodiment
of his superiority to us: beautiful,
exotic, highly sexual and yet
unavailable to everyone but him.
Shite. Let's face it: if she'd
shag one punter from Edinburgh,
she'd shag the fucking lot of us.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - LATER
Spud cooks up, watched by Swanney.
Nearby lie the drugged forms of Renton, Sick Boy and Allison
and Baby.
INT. RENTON FAMILY HOME, LIVING-ROOM - NIGHT
Renton's Mother and Father sit reading the paper and a
magazine.
INT. RENTON FAMILY HOME, PARENTS' BEDROOM - NIGHT
Renton trawls through drawers and any containers (shoe
boxes, make-up boxes, under the mattress, etc.) until he
finds some cash/jewelry.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton lies back, staring vacantly ahead.
Tommy flops down beside him. Renton shows barely a flicker
of awareness.
TOMMY
Lizzy's gone, Mark, she's gone and
fucking dumped me. It was the video
tape and that Iggy Pop business
and all sorts of other stuff. She
told me where to go and no mistake.
I said, is there any chance of
getting back together, like, but
no way, no fucking way.
INT. HOSPITAL WARD SITTING-ROOM - DAY
A few elderly patients sit in armchairs watching daytime
television.
Renton and Spud jump and climb through an open window.
Watched by the helpless patients, they calmly disconnect
the television and take it with them as they leave by the
same route.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton and Tommy slumped side by side as before.
TOMMY
I want to try it, Mark. You're
always going on about how it's the
ultimate hit and that. Better than
sex. Come on, I'm a fucking adult.
I want to find out for myself.
Renton huddles up and leans away from Tommy.
TOMMY
I've got the money.
Tommy produces ten pounds from his pocket.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton and Spud run along the street.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Tommy lies drugged on the floor.
INT. FLAT TO BE BURGLED - DAY
The door of an ordinary flat is kicked open.
Begbie walks in, crowbar in hand, followed by Sick Boy and
Spud.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
SICK BOY
Honor Blackman a.k.a. Pussy Galore,
what a total fucking misnomer. I
wouldn't touch her with yours. I'd
sooner shag Col Kreb. At least you
know where you are with a woman
like that. Not much to look at,
like, but personality, that's what
counts, that's what keeps a
relationship going through the
years. Like heroin. I mean, heroin's
got fucking great personality.
Sick Boy opens the heel of a his shoe to reveal a syringe.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Swanney hands over a small bag of heroin in exchange for
ten pounds from Renton.
INT. FLAT TO BE BURGLED, KITCHEN - DAY
Spud checks the fridge and pulls out a large chunk of deep-
frozen meat.
He hits with the crowbar until it fractures and splits.
Inside there is some jewellery.
INT. CAR - DAY
The car is empty. A window is broken and the door opened.
The car alarm goes off.
Renton reaches under the seat and finds the radio/cassette.
He then pulls the bonnet release.
EXT. CAR - DAY
The car alarm rings on until Renton calmly produces a pair
of wire cutters and a spanner to cut free and release the
battery.
The alarm is silenced.
Renton walks away with the battery and the stereo.
INT. GP'S SURGERY - DAY
RENTON (V.O.)
Swanney taught us to adore and
respect the National Health Service,
for it was the source of much of
our gear. We stole drugs, we stole
prescriptions, or bought them,
sold them, swapped them, forged
them, photocopied them or traded
them with cancer victims,
alcoholics, old age pensioners,
AIDS patients, epileptics and bored
housewives. We took morphine,
diamorphine, cyclozine, codeine,
temazepam, nitrezepam,
phenobarbitone, sodium amytal
dextropropoxyphene, methadone,
nalbuphine, pethidine, pentazocine,
buprenorphine, dextromoramide
chlormethiazole. The streets are
awash with drugs that you can have
for unhappiness and pain, and we
took them all. Fuck it, we would
have injected Vitamin C if only
they'd made it illegal.
The GP examines Renton's chest and smiles.
The GP turns to wash his hands. Renton pulls on his shirt
and steals a prescription pad off the desk.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton lies back with his eyes close. A football enters
the frame to bounce off his head and out again.
He opens his eyes and it happens again.
Opposite him, Spud, Sick Boy and Tommy stand looking down
on him.
Tommy throws the ball again.
INT. PUB I - DAY
It's the first day of the Edinburgh Festival.
Renton, Tommy, Spud, Sick Boy and Begbie sit drinking.
They observe a young male American Tourist walk in in a
bulky red anorak and glasses. He goes past them towards
the toilet.
Begbie stands up.
INT. PUB I, TOILET - DAY
The American Tourist turns from the urinal to see Begbie,
Renton, Sick Boy, Spud and Tommy approaching. Begbie punches
and kicks the Tourist and pulls out a knife.
INT. TAXI - DAY
The door of the taxi opens, Begbie, Tommy, Spud, Sick Boy
and Renton get in, carrying the red anorak and glasses.
As the taxi pulls away they study the photograph in the
passport. They look at one another in agreement.
EXT. TAXI - DAY
The taxi motors along.
INT. PUB I - NIGHT
A man at the bar is now wearing the red anorak.
Begbie divides up the money among Sick Boy, Tommy, Spud,
and Renton.
Renton takes his share.
BEGBIE
And remember, Rents: no skag.
RENTON
Aye, OK, Fr. But the good times
couldn't last for ever.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Renton lies as before. Around the room are Swanney, Allison,
Tommy, Spud and Sick Boy.
Allison begins screaming and wailing.
Slowly, the others rouse themselves to varying degrees.
RENTON (V.O.)
I think Allison had been screaming
all day, but it hadn't really
registered before. She might have
been screaming for a week for all
I knew. It's been days since I've
heard anyone speak, though surely
someone must have said something
in all that time, surely to fuck
someone must have.
SICK BOY
What's wrong, Allison?
Allison points toward the bundle of dirty blankets in which
her baby is wrapped. Sick Boy follows her directions.
SPUD Calm down, calm down. It's going to be all right,
everything's going to be just fine.
RENTON (V.O.)
Nothing could have been further
from the truth. In point of fact,
nothing at all was going to be
just fine. On the contrary,
everything was going to be bad.
Bad? I mean worse than it already
was.
Sick Boy stands over the bundle. The baby is dead.
SICK BOY
Oh, fuck. Sick Boy reaches out to
Allison.
RENTON (V.O.)
It wasn't my baby. She wasn't my
baby. Baby Dawn. She wasn't mine.
Spud's? Swanney's? Sick Boy's? I
don't know. Maybe Allison knew.
Maybe not. I wished I could think
of something to say, something
sympathetic, something human.
SICK BOY
Say something, Mark, say something --
RENTON
I'm cooking' up. There is a silence.
Renton begins scrambling around through the works.
ALLISON
Cook one for me, Renton. I need a
hit.
RENTON (V.O.)
And so she did, I could understand
that. To take the pain away. So I
cooked up and she got a hit, but
only after me. That went without
saying.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton, Spud and Sick Boy cross the road to approach the
shop.
RENTON (V.O.)
Well, at least we knew who the
father was now. It wasn't just the
baby that died that day. Something
inside Sick Boy was lost and never
returned. It seemed he had no theory
with which to explain a moment
like this.
INT. SHOP - DAY
Renton, Spud and Sick Boy are stuffing their pockets, as
seen before.
Renton's theft is interrupted by Diane's voice.
DIANE
Hello there, Mark.
Diane is standing just beside him.
DIANE
What are you doing?
Renton is speechless, but a few stolen items fall from
inside his jacket down to the floor.
Diane looks down.
Spud and Sick Boy start to snigger.
One of the Store Detectives become aware of the group. He
starts walking towards them.
DIANE
You didn't tell me you were a thief.
SPUD
Hey, go easy, lady. The boy's got
a habit to support.
SICK BOY
Opium doesn't just grow on trees,
you know.
A few more items fall from Renton's jacket as the store
Detective closes in.
Renton looks at Diane.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton and Spud are running, pursued by the Two Store
Detectives.
RENTON (V.O.)
Nor did I. Our only response was
to keep on going and fuck
everything. Pile misery upon misery,
heap it up on a spoon and dissolve
it with a drop of bile, then squirt
it into a stinking purulent vein
and do it all over again. Keep on
going: getting up, going out,
robbing, stealing, fucking people
over, propelling ourselves with
longing towards the day it would
all go wrong. As seen in the opening
scene, Renton is nearly hit by a
car that screeches to a halt as he
crosses a road.
He looks at the driver, at Spud running away and the Store
Detectives approaching.
RENTON (V.O.)
Because no matter how much you
stash or how much you steal, you
never have enough. No matter how
often you go out and rob and fuck
people over you always need to get
up and do it all again.
Renton smiles and waits.
RENTON (V.O.)
Sooner or later, this sort of thing
was bound to happen. One of the
Detectives runs straight past him,
after Spud.
The other Detective crashes into Renton with a mighty punch
in the stomach.
INT. COURT - DAY
Spud and Renton stand in the dock. Renton's Mother and
Father, Sick Boy, Begbie, and Spud's Mother (Mrs. Murphy)
are among those in the gallery.
The Sheriff delivers his sentence.
SHERIFF
...because shoplifting is theft,
which is a crime, and, despite
what you may believe, there is no
such entity as victimless crime.
Heroin addiction may explain your
actions, but it does not excuse
them. Mr Murphy, you are a habitual
thief, devoid of regret or remorse.
In sentencing you to six months'
imprisonment my only worry is that
it will not be long before we meet
again. Mr Renton, I understand
that you have entered into a
programme of rehabilation in an
attempt to wean yourself away from
heroin. The suspension of your
sentence is conditional upon your
continued cooperation with this
programme. Should you stand guilty
before me again, I shall not
hesitate to impose a custodial
sentence.
RENTON
Thank you, your honour. With God's
help, I'll conquer this affliction.
The Sheriff and Renton stare at one another for a moment.
Renton turns to look at Spud, then back towards the Sheriff,
who is now leaving the court.
RENTON (V.O.)
What can you say? Well, Begbie had
a phrase for it.
INT. PUB I - DAY
The pub is crowded. Around Renton are his mother, Father,
Begbie, Sick Boy and Gav. BEGBIE It was fucking obvious
that that cunt was going to fuck some cunt.
There is a round to nodding and 'poor Spud'ing. Everyone
begins to talk at once.
FATHER
I hope you've learned your lesson,
son.
MOTHER
Oh, my son, I thought I was going
to lose you there. You're nothing
but trouble to me, but I still
love you.
BEGBIE
Clean up your act, sunshine. Cut
that shite out for ever.
MOTHER
You listen to Francis, Mark, he's
talking sense.
BEGBIE
Fucking right I am. See, inside,
you wouldn't last two fucking days.
SICK BOY
There's better things that the
needle, Rents. Choose life.
He winks.
MOTHER
I remember when you were a baby,
even when you would never do what
you were told.
BEGBIE
But he pulled it off, clever
bastard, and he got a result.
They laugh, then fall silent.
Renton turns around. Behind him stands Spud's mother.
RENTON
Mrs Murphy, I'm sorry about Spud.
It's wasn't fair, him going down
and not me --
Tears in her eyes, Mrs Murphy turns and walks away.
Renton watches her go. Behind him Begbie shouts.
BEGBIE
It's no our fault. Your boy went
down because he was fucking smack-
head and if that's not your fault,
I don't know what is.
Begbie turns back to Renton.
Right. I'll get the drinks in.
He moves towards the bar.
Renton slips away.
Renton walks through the bar towards the toilets, then out
of a back door.
EXT. YARD - DAY
Renton emerges into a narrow yard surrounded by a high
wall. He looks around. The steel back gate is locked.
RENTON (V.O.)
I wished I had gone down instead
of Spud. Here I was surrounded by
my family and my so-called mates
and I've never felt so alone, never
in all my puff. Since I was on
remand they've had me on this
programme, the state-sponsored
addiction, three sickly sweet doses
of methadone a day instead of smack.
But it's never enough, and at the
moment it's nowhere near enough. I
took all three this morning and
now I've got eighteen hours to go
till my next shot and a sweat on
my back like a layer of frost. I
need to visit the mother superior
for one hit, one fucking hit to
get us over this long, hard day.
Renton climbs the wall. He stands on top, then dives off
the other side, executing a somersault in mid-air.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - NIGHT
Swanney is cooking up. Renton lands on the floor behind
him like a gymnast.
RENTON
What's on the menu this evening?
SWANNEY
Your favourite dish.
RENTON
Excellent.
SWANNEY
Your usual table, sir?
RENTON
Why, thank you.
Renton sits on his usual cushion on the floor.
SWANNEY
And would sir care to settle his
bill in advance?
RENTON
Stick it on my tab.
SWANNEY
Regret to inform, sir, that your
credit limit was reached and
breached a long time ago.
RENTON
In that case --
He produces twenty pounds.
SWANNEY
Oh, hard currency, why, sir, that'll
do nicely.
He swipes the notes underneath a UV forgery checker.
Can't be too careful when we're dealing with your type,
can we?
Renton begins his search for a vein.
Would sir care for a starter? Some garlic bread perhaps?
RENTON
No, thank you. I'll proceed directly
to the intravenous injection of
hard drugs, please.
SWANNEY
As you wish.
He hands Renton the syringe. Renton inject, then lies back
on the dirty, red, carpeted floor. He lies completely still.
His pupils shrink. His breathing becomes slow, shallow and
intermittent. He sinks into the floor until he is lying in
a coffin-shaped and coffin-sized pit, lined by the red
carpet. Swanney stands over him.
SWANNEY
Perhaps sir would like me to call
for a taxi?
An ambulance siren becomes faintly audible.
INT. SWANNEY'S STAIRWELL - NIGHT
The siren is a little louder. Swanney holds Renton under
his arms and drags him backwards down the steps.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
As Swanney emerges, still dragging Renton, the siren grows
louder and then an ambulance speeds by without stopping.
Swanney drags Renton across the pavement and into the open
door of a waiting taxi. Swanney then steps out of the taxi's
other door, pausing only to tuck a ten-pound note into
Renton's pocket before closing the door.
INT. TAXI - NIGHT
Renton lies on the floor of the taxi, as Swanney left him,
rolling slightly as the taxi takes a corner.
EXT. HOSPITAL/TAXI - NIGHT
The taxi is stationary. We do not see the driver's face
but his hand opens the door and then drags Renton out on
to the pavement by his ankles before taking the ten pound
note, getting back in the cab and driving away. Renton
lies on the pavement. Two Porters life him by arms and
ankles on to a trolley. We do not see the Porters's faces
as they wheel Renton into the hospital.
INT. HOSPITAL ACCIDENT AND EMERGENCY DEPARTMENT - NIGHT
Renton is wheeled through the department, then into a bay
surrounded by a white nylon curtain.
INT. TROLLEY BAY - NIGHT
The Porters lift Renton from one trolley on to another,
then leave him alone in the bay surrounded by the curtain.
Renton lies alone. His breathing is still shallow and
erratic. Around him is the usual accident and emergency
paraphernalia: blood pressure machine, oxygen tap, bandages,
etc. A Doctor comes in and gives Renton an injection, then
leaves. DOCTOR Wake up. Wake up.
Renton breathes more easily.
The Two Porters return with another trolley. They lift
Renton roughly on to it and wheel him away.
INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NIGHT
The Porters wheel Renton along.
INT. WARD - NIGHT
The Porters lift Renton off the trolley and dump him on
the bed. A nurse sticks a thermometer in his mouth.
INT. WARD - DAY
Renton's Father and Mother lift Renton, now fully conscious,
off the bed and dump him in a wheelchair.
INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - DAY
Mother walks ahead. Behind her, Father pushes Renton in
the wheelchair.
INT. TAXI - DAY
Mother and Father sit on either side of Renton.
INT. RENTON'S BEDROOM - DAY
Father shoves Renton on to the bed, then walks out past
Mother, who looks at Renton for a moment before closing
the door.
INT. OTHER SIDE OF RENTON'S BEDROOM DOOR - DAY
Renton's Father's hand slides three bolts across to lock
the door.
INT. RENTON'S BEDROOM - DAY
Renton lies on the bed.
RENTON (V.O.)
I don't feel the sickness yet, but
it's in the post, that's for sure.
I'm in the junky limbo at the
moment, too ill to sleep, too tired
to stay awake, but the sickness is
on its way. Sweat, chills, nausea,
pain and craving. Need like nothing
else I have ever known will soon
take hold of me. It's on the way.
The door opens. Renton's Mother walks in with a bowl of
soup and a piece of bread. Father watches from the doorway.
MOTHER
We'll help you, son. You'll stay
with us until you get better. We'll
beat this together.
RENTON
Maybe I could go back to the clinic.
MOTHER
No. No clinics, no methadone. That
made you worse, you said so
yourself. You lied to us, son,
your own mother and father.
RENTON
At least get us some Tempazepam.
MOTHER
No, you're worse coming off that
than you are with heroin. Nothing
at all.
FATHER
It's a clean break this time.
MOTHER
You're staying where we can keep
an eye on you.
RENTON
I do appreciate what you're trying
to do, I really do, but I need
just one score, to ease myself off
it. Just one. Just one.
Mother retreats past Father, who closes the door. The bolts
go home again. Renton lies back and closes his eyes. His
forehead is damp with sweat. He begins to shake. He tosses
and turns, becoming wrapped up in a swathe of blankets. As
he unravels them, he is astonished to find a fully clothed
Begbie in the bed with him.
BEGBIE
Well, this is a good laugh, you
fucking useless bastard. Go on,
sweat that shite out of your system,
because if I come back and it's
still there, I'll fucking kick it
out.
Begbie laughs and covers himself up. Renton rips away the
blankets, but Begbie has gone. Renton looks up. Baby Dawn
is crawling across the ceiling. Renton looks down to see
Diane sitting on the end of the bed. Diane sings
'Temptation' by New Order.
DIANE
'Oh, you've got green eyes, oh,
you've got red eyes, and I've never
met anyone quite like you before.'
Renton looks back up. Dawn continues her slow crawl, leaving
behind a thick rail of unidentifiable slime. Renton looks
down. Sick Boy sits on the end of the bed, holding a cup
of tea and a chocolate biscuit. Mother stands behind him.
SICK BOY
It's a mug's game, Mrs Renton. I'm
not saying I was blameless myself,
far from it, but there comes a
time when you have to turn your
back on that nonsense and just say
no.
Sick Boy takes a bit of his biscuit. Dawn crawls on. She
has fangs now. Spud sits on the end of the bed, in a
caricature prison uniform with arrows on it, plus a ball
and chain. Dawn has claws as well. Tommy sits on the end
of the bed. He looks terrible.
TOMMY
Better than sex, Rents, better
than sex. The ultimate hit. I'm a
fucking adult. I'll find out for
myself. Well, I've found out all
right.
Renton looks up again just as the baby drops on to his
face. He tears her off and throws her into a corner.
Renton's Mother and Father are washing him. Mother bends
down and picks up the large, damp sponge from the corner,
where it landed. She wipes her son's face with it.
FATHER
Mark, there's something you need
to do.
INT. CONSULTING ROOM - DAY
A Doctor stands up as Renton enters.
DOCTOR
Come in. Sit down, please.
They both sit down.
DOCTOR
Well, you've already spoken to one
of our counsellors, but before we
go on there're just a few questions
I'd like to ask you.
INT. RENTON FAMILY HOME, LIVING-ROOM - DAY
Renton, his mother and Father sit watching television.
INT. STUDIO - DAY
Renton is sitting inside a plastic booth shaped like a
giant syringe. The Doctor, now dressed as a game-show host,
stands in front, with Renton's Mother and Father beside
him.
DOCTOR
Question number one: the human
immunodeficiency virus is a - what?
FATHER
Retrovirus?
DOCTOR
Retrovirus is the correct answer.
Fanfare.
DOCTOR
Question number two: HIV binds to
which receptor on the host
lymphocyte? Which Receptor?
Mother and Father confer.
FATHER
CD4.
DOCTOR
CD4 receptor is the correct answer.
Fanfare.
DOCTOR
And now, question number three: is
he guilty or not guilty?
MOTHER
He's our son.
DOCTOR
Is the correct answer.
Fanfare.
DOCTOR
And now it's time to 'Take the
Test'.
Lights flash. Music. A garish Hostess walks on with two
envelopes. She holds them out for Mother to choose one.
INT. CONSULTING ROOM - DAY
The Doctor watches in silence as the Hostess, now dressed
as a medical technician, draws blood from Renton's arm and
puts it into a tube. She marks the tube with a pre-printed,
numbered label.
INT. STUDIO - DAY
Mother opens one of the envelopes. She is speechless with
joy. The plastic booth opens up. Lights flash again, etc.
Renton steps out.
INT. SOCIAL CLUB - NIGHT
Renton, his Mother and Father sit at a table in the local
social club. It is a Saturday night and the club is busy.
Everyone sits in rapt silence. It is not initially clear
what is going on. Near the bar a Caller with a microphone
calls over the PA - Two and four, twenty-
four...seven...fifteen...clickety-click, sixty-six - And
so on, as he draws the numbers from the drum. Everyone
studies their cards, except Renton, who studies the people
instead, his drink untouched. The number-calling continues
until suddenly interrupted by Mother's voice.
MOTHER
Mark...Mark, you've got a house.
House! House! For goodness's sake,
Mark.
They bustle around him and pass his card to the front.
RENTON (V.O.)
It seems, however, that I really
am the luckiest guy in the world.
Several years of addiction right
in the middle of an epidemic,
surrounded by the living dead, but
not me -- I'm negative. It's
official. And once the pain goes
away, that's when the real battle
starts. Depression. Boredom. You
feel so fucking low, you'll want
to fucking top yourself.
His mother counts a wad of money in front of him.
EXT. HOUSING ESTATE - DAY
On the door of a flat 'plaguer', 'HIV', and 'junky AIDS
scum' are daubed on the walls. The sound of a ball being
regularly bounced against a wall can be heard.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - NIGHT
It is poorly furnished. Tommy is seated. Renton has the
football, which he kicks against the wall and catches,
then drops and kicks again, and so on. The ball is slightly
flat.
RENTON
Are you getting out much?
TOMMY
No.
RENTON
Following the game at all?
TOMMY
No.
RENTON
No. Me Neither.
Renton drops the ball. It rolls to a halt in the corner.
He sits down.
TOMMY
You take the test?
RENTON
Aye.
TOMMY
Clear?
RENTON
Aye.
TOMMY
That's nice.
RENTON
I'm sorry, Tommy.
TOMMY
Have you got any gear on you?
RENTON
No, I'm clean.
TOMMY
Well, sub us, then, mate. I'm
expecting a rent cheque.
Renton produces some of his bingo win. As he hands the
notes over, their eyes and hands meet for a moment. Tommy
puts the money away.
TOMMY
Thanks, Mark.
RENTON
No problem. No problem -- easy to
say when its some other poor cunt
with shite for blood.
INT. HOSPITAL - NIGHT
Renton walks along a corridor and into a ward.
INT. WARD - DAY
Sheets cover the lower half of Swanney in bed. They are
thrown back to reveal the stump of an above-knee amputation.
SWANNEY
Surprise! Pa-pah!
Renton sits down and takes it in silence.
Hit the artery by mistake. Common enough error, or so the
quack tells us, as though that's going to make my leg grown
back. Still, it could have been worse, it could have been
my fucking dick. And I tell you what, in this place you
get looked after: clean sheets, regular meals and all the
morphine you can eat.
RENTON
Great.
SWANNEY
And see when I get out of here.
I've got plans. Going to get myself
straightened out and head off to
Thailand, where women really know
how to treat a guy. See, out there
you can live like a king if you've
got white skin and a few crisp
tenners in your pocket. No fucking
problem.
RENTON
Sure.
SWANNEY
The strategy is this: get clean,
get mobile, get into dealing, and
this time next year I'll be watching
the rising sun with a posse of
oriental buttocks parked on my
coupon.
RENTON
Sounds great, Swanney.
SWANNEY
Yeah.
RENTON
You'll have to send us a postcard.
SWANNEY
Sure will, pal, sure will.
EXT. PARK - DAY
Renton and Sick Boy are seated in their firing patch,
sitting on plastic bags with beer, vodka, hash and the
cassette player. The airgun is present as before, but they
are not making any use of it.
SICK BOY
Eughh. Sounds horrible.
RENTON
It wasn't that bad.
SICK BOY
Did he -- you know?
RENTON
What?
SICK BOY
You know.
RENTON
No, he didn't make me touch it.
SICK BOY
Oh no, don't even mention it.
RENTON
He made me lick it.
SICK BOY
God, you're sick.
RENTON
And I got a stitch stuck between
my teeth, jerked my head back and
the whole fucking stump fell off.
SICK BOY
Cut it out.
RENTON
When are you going to visit him?
SICK BOY
Don't know. Maybe Thursday.
RENTON
You're a real mate. And what about
Tommy? Have you been to see him
yet?
Sick Boy is silent. He stiffens as he avoids Renton's gaze.
They shift fractionally apart. RENTON tuts.
SICK BOY
Fuck you. OK, so Tommy's got the
virus. Bad news, big deal. The gig
goes on, or hadn't you noticed?
Swanney fucks his leg up. Well,
tough shit, but it could have been
worse.
RENTON
You're all hear.
SICK BOY
I know a couple of addicts. Stupid
wee lassies. I feed them what they
need. A little bit of skag to keep
them happy while the punters line
up at a fiver a skull. It's easy
money for me. Not exactly a fortune,
but I'm thinking, 'I should be
coining it here.' Less whores,
more skag. Swanney's right. Get
clean, get into dealing, that's
where the future lies. Set up some
contacts, get a good load of skag,
punt it, profit. What do you think?
RENTON
Fuck you.
SICK BOY
And I'll tell you why. Because I'm
fed up to my back teeth with losers,
no-hopers, draftpacks, schemies,
junkies and the like. I'm getting
on with life. What are you doing?
INT. RENTON'S BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton sits alone on the bed, making a joint and reading a
book. There is a knock at the door. Renton answers the
door.
RENTON
What do you want?
DIANE
Are you clean?
RENTON
Yes.
DIANE
Is that a promise, then?
RENTON
Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.
DIANE
Calm down, I'm just asking. Is
that hash I can smell?
RENTON
No.
DIANE
I wouldn't mind a bit, if it is.
RENTON
Well, it isn't.
DIANE
Smells like it.
RENTON
You're too young.
DIANE
Too young for what?
Renton looks in each direction along the empty passageway.
INT. RENTON'S BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton and Diane are lying in the bed. Diane, wearing one
of Renton's T-shirts, is rolling a mega-joint, quite unaware
of the scrutiny of Renton.
DIANE
You're not getting any younger,
Mark. The world is changing, music
is changing, even drugs are
changing. You can't stay in here
all day dreaming about heroin and
Ziggy Pop.
RENTON
It's Iggy Pop.
DIANE
Whatever. I mean, the guy's dead
anyway.
RENTON
Iggy Pop is not dead. He toured
last year. Tommy went to see him.
DIANE
The point is, you've got to find
something new.
Diane completes the joint.
RENTON (V.O.)
She was right. I had to find
something new. There was only one
thing for it.
EXT. LONDON - DAY
As contemporary retake of all those 'Swinging London'
montages: Red Routemaster/Trafalgar Square/Big
Ben/Royalty/City gents in suits/Chelsea ladies/fashion
victims/Piccadilly Circus at night. Incut with close-ups
of classic street names on a street map (all the ones made
famous by Monopoly.
INT. ESTATE AGENT'S OFFICE - DAY
The montage ends on one street, then draws back to reveal
the whole map of London pinned to a wall. A Man holding a
telephone walks in front of the map and belches loudly.
Revealing more, he is in a scruffy, cramped office with
half a dozen occupied desks and twice as many telephones.
Seated at the one nearest to the belching Man is Renton.
He is wearing a shirt and tie now. He turns in response to
the belch.
MAN
Can you take this call?
Renton takes the telephone and reaches for a piece of paper
from which he reads.
RENTON
Hello, yes, certainly. It's a
beautifully converted Victorian
town house. Ideally located in a
quiet road near to local shops and
transport.
Renton checks his watch.
EXT. THE A1 IN NORTH LONDON - DAY
Renton stands waiting beside this busy London road, outside
some very unfortunate housing, as the traffic streams past.
RENTON (V.O.)
Two bedrooms and a kitchen/diner.
Fully fitted in excellent decorative
order. Lots of storage space. All
mod cons. Three hundred and twenty
pounds per week.
A couple approach. Renton unlocks the door of a flat and
holds the door open while he ushers them in.
INT. LONDON FLAT - DAY
Renton shows the Couple round a typical London flat
nightmare. A poor conversion, poor decor, everything small
and ill-fitting. The windows rattle as the traffic roars
by.
RENTON (V.O.)
I settled in not too badly and I
kept myself to myself. Sometimes,
of course, I thought about the
guys, but mainly I didn't miss
them at all. After all, this was
boom town where any fool could
make cash from chaos and plenty
did. I quite enjoyed the sound of
it all. Profit, loss, margins,
takeovers, lending, letting,
subletting, subdividing, cheating,
scamming, fragmenting, breaking
away. There was no such thing as
society and even if there was, I
most certainly had nothing to do
with it. For the first time in my
adult life I was almost content.
INT. LONDON BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton finishes eating a pot noodle. He puts it down and
picks up a letter. He lies back and reads. Intercut with:
INT. SCHOOLROOM - DAY
A class is in progress. A teacher lectures to a mixed class,
but Diane is not listening as she is writing.
EXT. SCHOOL - DAY
Diane is leaving the school when Sick Boy catches up with
her. They stop and then she walks away.
EXT. PARK - DAY
Diane walks along a concrete path. As she does so she has
to step over Spud, who lies asleep/unconscious beside the
remains of a carry out.
DIANE (V.O.)
Dear Mark, I'm glad you've found a
job and somewhere to live. School
is fine at the moment. I'm not
pregnant but thanks for asking.
Your friend Sick Boy asked me last
week if I would like to work for
him but I told him where to go. I
met Spud, who sends his regards,
or at least I think that's what he
said. No one has seen Tommy for
ages. And finally, Francis Begbie
has been on television a lot this
week. --
INT. LONDON BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton turns the page.
DIANE (V.O.)
as he is wanted by the police in
connection with an armed robbery
in a jeweller's in Corstorphine.
Take care. Yours with love, Diane.
There is a buzz at the door. Renton re-examines the letter.
There is another buzz.
RENTON
Oh no.
INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton opens the door to an unseen figure. It is Begbie.
INT. BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton sits on the bed. Begbie stands over him, pointing a
gun at his head. He pulls the trigger. It clicks harmlessly.
BEGBIE
Armed robbery? With a replica? How
can it be armed robbery? It's a
fucking scandal.
He 'fires' the gun a few more times at his own head, then
chucks it to the floor.
And the haul. Look.
He digs a few rings out of his pocket and throws them to
Renton.
Solid silver, my arse. I took it to a fence -- it's trash,
pure trash. There's young couples investing all their hopes
in that stuff, and what are they getting?
RENTON
It's a scandal, Franco.
BEGBIE
Too right it is. Now look, have
you got anything to eat, 'cos I'm
fucking Lee Marvin, by the way.
INT. BEDSIT - DAY
Begbie is sitting on the bed in his underwear, eating cereal
while watching television. A small carry-out is nearby.
Renton finishes dressing for work. He pauses at the open
door, looking back towards his guest.
RENTON (V.O.)
Begbie settled in in no time at
all.
Begbie opens a can of beer. Renton closes the door.
INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE BEDSIT - DAY
Renton closes his door. He is about to walk away when he
heard Begbie shouting.
BEGBIE
(from the bedsit)
Rents, Rents, come fucking back
here.
Renton opens the door. Begbie is holding out an empty packet
of cigarettes.
Look.
RENTON
What?
BEGBIE
I've no fucking cigarettes.
Begbie throws the packet down to the floor. It lands near
the door. He has turned back to the television and takes a
swig of beer.
RENTON
Right.
Renton closes the door again.
INT. BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton and Begbie lie in the single bed with their heads
at opposite ends. Begbie snores. Renton is wide awake,
with a pair of smelly- socked feet only inches from his
nose.
RENTON (V.O.)
Yeah, the guy's a psycho, but it's
true, he's a mate as well, so what
can you do?
INT. LONDON BEDSIT - DAY
Where the first empty packet of cigarettes fell to the
floor there is now a large heap of empty packets: the
product of weeks at sixty a day. Another one lands on the
pile. Begbie, still in his underwear, still can in hand,
sits watchig the racing as before. Behind his, cigarettes
and alcohol are stacked up like a miniature duty-free
warehouse. Renton sits behind him, reading a book.
BEGBIE
Hey, I'm wanting a bet put on.
RENTON
Can you not go yourself.
BEGBIE
I'm a fugitive from the law. I
can't be seen on the fucking
streets. Now watch my lips. Kempton
Park. Two-thirty. Five pounds to
win. Bad Boy.
INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE BEDSIT - DAY
The door opens, Renton walks out, the door closes and Renton
walks away. A wild, frightening scream erupts from beyond
the door.
INT. LONDON BEDSIT - DAY
Begbie, alone in the bedsit, is screaming a cry of primal
joy.
RENTON (V.O.)
Bad Boy came in at 16 to 1. And
with the winnings, we went out to
celebrate.
INT. LONDON PARTY - NIGHT
To loud music and strobing, fractured lights, surrounded
by dry ice, Begbie dances near a tall woman. Other people
dance nearby. Begbie gives the thumbs up to Renton, who
sits on a stool at one side drinking from a bottle of beer.
Begbie and the Woman walk away. Renton looks around the
club at the various men and women.
RENTON (V.O.)
Diane was right. The world is
changing, music is changin, drugs
are changing, even men and women
are changing. One thousand years
from now there'll be no guys and
no girls, just wankers. Sounds
great to me. It's just a pity that
no one told Begbie.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
A car sits in a street near the club, windows steamed up.
INT. CAR - NIGHT
Begbie and the Woman embrace passionately. The Woman undoes
Begbie's trousers.
INT. PARTY - NIGHT
Renton's gaze continues to wander around.
RENTON (V.O.)
You see, if you ask me, we're
heterosexual by default, not be
decision. It's just a question of
who you fancy.
INT. CAR - NIGHT
Begbie and the Woman continue their embrace as she unbuttons
his shirt.
RENTON (V.O.)
It's all about aesthetics and it's
fuck all to do with morality.
Suddenly Bedbie freezes. He is holding the 'Woman's' groin.
There is something there that shouldn't be. Begbie goes
crazy, simultaneously trying to put his clothes back on,
hit the Woman and get out of the car.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
Begbie stumbles away from the car, pulling up his trousers
as he goes.
RENTON (V.O.)
But you try telling Begbie that.
INT. BEDSIT - NIGHT
Begbie sits on the bed. Renton is sitting on the floor
watching.
BEGBIE
I'm no a fucking buftie and that's
the end of it.
RENTON
Let's face it, it could have been
wonderful.
Begbie leaps off the bed, grabs Renton and head-butts him,
then holds him by the lapel.
BEGBIE
Now, listen to me, you little piece
of junky shit. A joke's a fucking
joke, but you mention that again
and I'll cut you up. Understand?
Begbie produces his knife. There is a knock on the door.
They do not move. There is another knock.
INT. BEDSIT - NIGHT
Begbie lies sleeping on the bed. There are now two sets of
feet by his head, one on each side. At the other end lie
Renton (awake) and Sick Boy (asleep).
RENTON (V.O.)
Since I last saw him, Sick Boy had
reinvented himself as a pimp and a
pusher and was here to mix business
and pleasure, setting up 'contacts',
as he constantly informed me, for
the great skag deal that was one
day going to make him rich.
INT. ESTATE AGENT'S OFFICE - DAY
Renton sits at his desk, haggard and tired. Other people
bustle around him. Telephones ring, etc... In the background
the Man (who belched) is trying to promote a flat down the
telephone.
MAN
Beautifully converted Victorian
town house. Ideally located in a
quiet road near to local shops and
transport. Two bedrooms and a
kitchen/diner. Fully fitted in
excellent decorative order. Lots
of storage space. All mod cons.
Three hundred and twenty pounds a
week.
INT. BEDSIT - NIGHT
Renton (still dressed for work), Begbie and Sick Boy sit
in a line on the bed with fish suppers laid out on their
laps, but Renton's is untouched. SICK BOY Good chips.
RENTON
I can't believe you did that.
SICK BOY
I got a good price for it. Rents,
I need the money.
RENTON
It was my fucking television.
SICK BOY
Well, Christ, if I'd known you
were going to get so humpty about
it, I wouldn't have bothered. Are
you going to eat that?
He takes Renton's fish supper and adds it to his own.
Have you got a passport?
RENTON
Why?
SICK BOY
Well, this guy I've met runs a
hotel. Brother. Loads of contacts.
Does a nice little sideline in
punting British passports to
foreigners. Get you a good price.
RENTON
Why would I want to sell my
passport?
SICK BOY
It was just an idea.
INT. LEFT LUGGAGE ROOM - DAY
Renton drops his passport into an envelope and throws the
envelope into a locker. He turns the key and pockets it.
RENTON (V.O.)
I had to get rid of them. Sick Boy
didn't do his drug deal and he
didn't get rich. Instead, he and
Begbie just hung around my bedsit
looking for things to steal. I
decided to put them in the worst
place in the world.
EXT. BUSY LONDON ROAD - DAY
Traffic floods past as before.
INT. LONDON FLAT - DAY
Inside the flat that Renton showed the couple around. Sick
Boy and Begbie are standing in the hallway. Renton is in
the open doorway. He throws them the keys and leaves.
INT. LONDON BEDSIT - NIGHT
The cramped bedsit is a mess, filled with litter and
unwashed clothes. Renton lies on his bed, content to be
alone.
INT. LONDON FLAT - NIGHT
The flat is in darkness. The door opens a figure enters.
It is the man from Renton's office.
RENTON (V.O.)
But, of course, they weren't paying
any rent, so when my boss found
two desperate suckers who would,
Sick Boy and Begbie were bound to
feel threatened.
Man is followed by another couple. He switches on a light.
MAN
As you can see, it's a beautiful
conversion. Two bedrooms,
kitchen/diner. Fully fitted. Lots
of storage. All mod cons. Three
hundred and twenty quid a week.
From nowhere, Begbie and Sick Boy spring out at him.
INT. BEDSIT - DAY
Renton looks around the stripped, empty bedsit one last
time before closing the door as he leaves.
RENTON (V.O.)
And that was that. But by then we
had another reason to go back.
Tommy.
EXT. RAILWAY - DAY
An InterCity train speeds by.
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - NIGHT
A kitten sits on the floor.
GAV (V.O.)
Tommy knew he had the virus, like,
but never knew he'd gone full-blown.
RENTON (V.O.)
What was it, pneumonia or cancer?
GAV (V.O.)
No, toxoplasmosis. Sort of like a
stroke.
RENTON (V.O.)
Eh? How's that?
INT. CREMATORIUM CHAPEL - DAY
A service is in progress. Those present include Renton and
Gav, who are engaged in hushed conversation, Begbie, Spud,
Sick Boy, and Lizzy.
GAV
He wanted to see Lizzy again.
He indicated Lizzy. Lizzy wouldn't let him near the house.
So he brought a present for her, brought her a kitten.
RENTON
I bet Lizzy told him where to put
it.
GAV
Exactly. I'm not wanting a cat,
she says. Get to fuck, right. So
there's Tommy stuck with this
kitten. You can imagine what
happened. The thing was neglected,
pissing and shitting all over the
place. Tommy was lying around fucked
out of his eyeballs on smack or
downers. He didn't know you could
get toxoplasmosis from cat shit.
RENTON
I didn't either. What the fuck is
it?
INT. TOMMY'S FLAT - DAY
The kitten as before. Slow track back to reveal more.
GAV (V.O.)
He starts getting headaches, so he
just uses more smack, for the pain,
like. There he has a stroke. A
fucking stroke. Just like that.
God home from hospital and died
about three weeks later. Been dead
for ages before the neighbours
complained about the smell and the
police broke the door down. Tommy
was lying face down in a pool of
vomit.
The lower half of Tommy's clothed body is visible.
INT. CREMATORIUM CHAPEL - DAY
The coffin travels away. Gav and Renton watch it go.
GAV
The kitten was fine.
INT. PUB I - NIGHT
Gav, Renton, Spud, Sick Boy, Begbie and a few others are
gathered in the pub, still dressed in their funeral garb.
SPUD
Every time I think of Tommy I think
of Australian, because every time
I went round he was just lying
there, junked out of his mind,
watching Aussie soaps. Until he
sold the telly, of course, then he
was just lying there. Buy every
time I think of him, I still think
of Australia.
There is a short silence before Spud begins softly singing
'Two Little Boys'. He finishes unaccompanied.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - NIGHT
Spud, Begbie, and Renton are seated. Sick Boy is handing
around bottles of beer before he too sits down. They are
all wearing their funeral garb. Renton raises his bottle.
RENTON Tommy.
They all drink.
SICK BOY
Did you tell him?
BEGBIE
No. On you go.
RENTON
What?
SICK BOY
There's a mate of swanney's. Mikey
Forrester -- you know the guy.
He's come into some gear. A lot of
gear.
RENTON
How much?
SICK BOY
About four kilos. So he tells me.
Got drunk in a pub down by the
docks last week, where he met two
Russian sailors. They're fucking
carrying the stuff. For sale there
and then, like. So he wakes up the
next morning, realizes what he's
done and get very fucking nervous.
Wants rid of this. {----------
He's looking for Swanney to punt
it, but Swanney's nowhere to be
seen since he lost his leg. ----------
}
RENTON
So?
SICK BOY
So he met me and I offered to take
it off his hands at a very
reasonable price, with the intention
of punting it on myself to a guy I
know in London.
RENTON
So we've just come from Tommy's
funeral and you're telling me about
a skag deal?
BEGBIE
Yeah.
There is silence.
RENTON
What was your price?
SICK BOY
Four Grand.
RENTON
But you don't have the money?
SICK BOY
We're two thousand short.
RENTON
That's tough.
SICK BOY
Come on, Mark, every cunt knows
you've been saving up down in
London.
RENTON
Sorry, boys, I don't have two
thousand pounds.
BEGBIE
Yes, you fucking do. I've seen
your statement.
RENTON
Jesus.
BEGBIE
Two thousand, one hundred and thirty-
three pounds.
RENTON
Four kilos. That's what -- Ten
years' worth? Russian sailors?
Mikey Forrester? What the fuck are
you on these days? You've been to
jail, Spud, so what's the deal --
like it so much you want to go
back again?
SPUD
I want the money, Mark, that's
all.
BEGBIE
If everyone keeps their mouth shut,
there'll be no one going to jail.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton is visible first, apparently talking to himself,
then Diane.
RENTON
It's so simple. We buy it at four
grand, we punt it at twenty to
this guy that Sick Boy knows, and
he punts it at sixty. Everyone's
happy, everyone's in profit. I put
up two. I come away with six.
DIANE
Unless you get caught.
RENTON
So long as everyone keeps their
mouths shut, we'll not be getting
caught.
DIANE
So why have you told me about it?
RENTON
Well, you're not going to tell
anyone, are you, and besides, I
thought we could meet up afterwards,
maybe go somewhere together.
DIANE
I've got a boyfriend, Mark.
RENTON
What? Steady like?
DIANE
That's right: 'going steady' for
four weeks now.
RENTON
And what age are you? Thirteen?
Fourteen?
DIANE
Sixteen next month.
RENTON
Happy birthday.
DIANE
What do you think -- I should be
carrying a torch for you?
Renton thinks it over.
RENTON
So, what's he like?
DIANE
Well, he's young and he's healthy.
They both laugh.
And you're such a deadbeat, Mark.
INT. SWANNEY'S FLAT - DAY
Heroin is in the process of being prepared for injection:
heated, drawn up, etc. An arm is prepared for injection:
sleeve rolled up, tourniquet bound, veins tapped, etc.
Mikey forrester, Sick Boy, Spud, and Begbie look on.
RENTON (V.O.)
I hadn't told anyone everything
that was running through my mind
about what might happen in London.
There were a lot of possibilities
I didn't want to talk to anyone
about. Ideas best kept to myself.
What no one told me was that when
we bought the skag, some lucky
punter would have to try it out.
Begbie didn't trust Spud and Sick
Boy was too careful these days, so
I rolled up my sleeve and did what
had to be done.
Renton injects the heroin into a vein in his arm.
RENTON
It's good, it's fucking good.
EXT. BUS STATION - NIGHT
Renton walks past a Beggar huddling against a wall. The
Beggar's sign reads: 'FALKLANDS VETERAN. I LOST MY LEG FOR
MY COUNTRY. PLEASE HELP.' The beggar is Swanney.
RENTON (V.O.)
Yes, that hit was good. I promised
myself another one before I got to
London -- just for old time's sake,
just to piss Begbie off.
EXT. ROAD - NIGHT
The bus travels towards London.
INT. BUS - NIGHT
Sick Boy dabs at amphetamine. Spud drinks.
INT. BUS TOILET - NIGHT
Renton cooks up in the bus toilet.
RENTON (V.O.)
This was to be my final hit. But
let's be clear about this: there's
final hits and final hits. What
kind was this to be? {----------
Some final hits are actually
terminal one way or another, while
others are merely transit points
as you travel from station to
station on the junky journey through
junky life. ----------}
INT. BUS - NIGHT
Begbie sits grimly. The others are relaxed.
RENTON (V.O.)
This was his nightmare. The dodgiest
scam in a lifetime of dodgie scams
being perpetrated with three of
the most useless and unreliable
fuck-ups in town. I knew what was
going on in his mind: any trouble
in London and he would dump us
immediately, one way or another.
He had to. If he got caught with a
bagful of skag, on top of that
armed robbery shit, he was going
down for fifteen to twenty. Begbie
was hard, but not so hard that he
didn't shite it off twenty years
in Saughton.
BEGBIE
Did you bring the cards?
SICK BOY
What?
BEGBIE
The cards. The last thing I said
to you was mind the cards.
SICK BOY
Well, I've not brought them.
BEGBIE
It's fucking boring after a while
without the cards.
SICK BOY
Well, I've not brought them.
BEGBIE
It's fucking boring after a while
without the cards.
SICK BOY
I'm sorry.
BEGBIE
Bit fucking late, like.
SICK BOY
Well, why didn't you bring them?
BEGBIE
Because I fucking told you to do
that, you doss cunt.
SICK BOY
Christ.
EXT. LONDON - DAY
The bus travels through London.
EXT. STREET - DAY
The gang enter a cheap hotel. Begbie's bag contains the
heroin.
INT. HOTEL - DAY
They are met by Andreas, a man in his late thirties of
Mediterranean appearance. He shakes Sick Boy's hand.
ANDREAS
These are your friends?
SICK BOY
These are the guys I told you about.
ANDREAS
OK.
SICK BOY
Is he here?
ANDREAS
Yes, he's here. I hope you didn't
get followed or nothing.
BEGBIE
We didn't get followed.
Andreas leads them along a corridor and into a room.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
An exceptional Man is waiting. Andreas leaves the room and
closes the door. The Man opens both and tastes the heroin.
He produces a set of kitchen scales from his bag and weighs
the two bags.
RENTON (V.O.)
Straight away he clocked us from
what we were: small-time wasters
with an accidental big deal.
MAN
So what do you want for it?
BEGBIE
Twenty thousand.
MAN
But it's not worth more than
fifteen.
BEGBIE
Ninteen.
The man shakes his head and lights a cigarette.
MAN
Nineteen I can't offer you, I'm
sorry.
RENTON (V.O.)
This was a real drag to him. He
didn't need to negotiate. I mean,
what the fuck were we going to do
if he didn't buy it? Sell it on
the streets. Fuck that.
The deal is done. The Man hands over the money and waits
as it is counted, then leaves with the drugs.
RENTON (V.O.)
We settled on sixteen thousand
pounds. He had a lot more in the
suitcase, but it was better than
nothing. And just for a moment it
felt really great, like we were
all in it together, like friends,
like it meant something. A moment
like that, it can touch you deep
inside, but it doesn't last long,
not like sixteen thousand pounds.
INT. LONDON PUB - DAY
The pub is crowded with afternoon drinkers. Renton, Spud,
Sick Boy and Begbie sit drinking. Begbie is still keeping
a firm hand on the sports bag, which now holds the money.
SICK BOY So what are you planning with your share, Spud?
RENTON
Buy yourself that island in the
sun?
BEGBIE
For four fucking grand? One palm
tree, a couple of rocks, and a
sewage outflow.
SPUD
I don't know, maybe I'll buy
something for my ma, and then buy
some good speed, no bicarb like,
then get a girl, take her out like,
and treat her -- properly.
BEGBIE
Shag her senseless.
SPUD
No, I don't mean like that -- I
mean something nice, like, that's
all --
BEGBIE
You daft cunt. If you're going to
waste it like that, you might as
well leave it all to me. Now get
the drinks in.
SICK BOY
I got a round already.
SPUD
I got the last one.
RENTON
It's your round Franco.
Begbie stands up.
BEGBIE
OK. Same again?
SICK BOY
I'm off for a pish. When I come
back, that money's still here, OK?
RENTON
The moment you turn your back,
we're out that door.
Sick Boy walks away towards the toilet.
SICK BOY
I'll be right after you.
BEGBIE
You'll never catch us, you flabby
bastard. Right, see, when I come
back --
RENTON
We'll be half-way down the road
with the money.
BEGBIE
I'd fucking kill you.
RENTON
I guess you would, Franco.
Begbie walks away to the bar. Spud and Renton look at each
other and the bag of money.
Are you game for it?
Spud looks at the bag and around the pub towards the toilet
door and Begbie. Begbie stands at the bar, awaiting the
pints.
Well?
SPUD
Are you serious?
Renton looks around.
RENTON
I don't know. What do you think?
Spud says nothing. Suddenly they are interrupted.
SICK BOY
Still here, I see.
Sick Boy sits down.
RENTON
Why not? I know I would. Where's
Franco?
Renton turns to see Begbie making his way through the crowd
with the pints half precariously. As he reaches the table
a Man standing with a group of friends accidentally nudges
Begbie, causing a pint to spill over him.
BEGBIE
For fuck's sake.
MAN
Sorry, mate, I'll get you another.
BEGBIE
All down my fucking front, you
fucking idiot.
MAN
Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.
BEGBIE
Sorry's no going to dry me off,
you cunt.
RENTON
Cool down, Franco. The guy's sorry.
BEGBIE
Not sorry enough for being a fat
cunt.
MAN
Fuck you. If you can't hold a pint,
you shouldn't be in the pub, mate.
Now fuck off.
Begbie drops the remaining three pints. As the Man looks
down to the falling glasses, Begbie punches him in the
face and knees him in the groin. A fight breaks out between
the Man and Begbie. Sick Boy rushes forward to restrain
Begbie. Renton sits still, not even looking at the fight
or what follows. His eyes are fixed on the bag while his
hands fiddle. Begbie stabs Spud in the hand.
SPUD
Jesus Christ.
SICK BOY
Good one, Franco.
BEGBIE
Shut you mouth or you'll be next.
SPUD
You've stabbed me, man.
BEGBIE
You were in my way.
Begbie, blade still in hand, addresses the entire pub.
BEGBIE
And anyone in my way gets it,
fucking gets it. Everybody hear
that? Everybody happy?
Nobody says anything. Renton is seated as before, avoiding
Begbie's gaze. Begbie addresses him.
BEGBIE
Hey, Rent-boy, bring us down a
smoke.
Renton does not move.
SICK BOY
We'd better go, Franco.
SPUD
I've got to get to the hospital,
man.
BEGBIE
(to Spud)
You're not going to and fucking
hospital.
(to Sick Boy)
You're staying there.
(to Renton)
And you bring me a fucking
cigarette.
Renton swivels and stands up.
BEGBIE
And the bag.
Renton lifts the bag and slowly approaches Begbie. Renton,
nervous, hand shaking, pulls a packet of cigarettes from a
pocket and holds it towards Begbie. Begbie does not move.
Renton holds out the bag. Begbie takes it. Now Renton
selects a cigarette and hands it over to Begbie. Begbie
inhales deeply and then blows the smoke towards Renton
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Renton lies awake, sharing a bed with Sick Boy, who is
asleep. Spud and Begbie lie on the other, both asleep.
Begbie has an arm draped over the bag, holding it close.
Renton gets up and goes to the small bathroom. He puts the
light on above the mirror and looks at himself. He washes
his face and drinks a glass of water, then walks back to
the bedroom. Renton pulls on his jacket and shoes. He stands
over Begbie, then reaches carefully down to life Begbie's
arm up. As he does so he realizes that Spud is watching
him. They say nothing. Renton takes the bag. Begbie stirs
but does not wake.
Renton looks down at Spud for a moment before unzipping
the bag. He pulls out a small wad of cash, which he hands
to Spud. Spud tucks the wad away.
Renton walks to the door and opens it. He nods to Spud,
then disappears.
INT. LOCKER - DAY
Envelope being removed.
INT. LEFT LUGGAGE - DAY
Renton takes the passport from the envelope.
EXT. STREET - DAY
Renton walks away.
RENTON (V.O.)
Now, I've justified this to myself
in all sorts of ways: it wasn't a
big deal, just a minor betrayal,
or we'd outgrown each other, you
know, that sort of thing, but let's
face it, I ripped them off. My so-
called mates. But Begbie, I couldn't
give a shit about him, and Sick
Boy, well, he'd have done the same
to me if only he'd thought of it
first, and Spud, well, OK, I felt
sorry for Spud -- he never hurt
anybody.
INT. HOTEL - DAY
Prostitutes, punters, Sick Boy and Spud line the corridor
as two Policemen walk past towards:
INT. HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Begbie goes radge.
EXT. STREET - DAY
RENTON (V.O.)
So why did I do it? I could offer
a million answers, all false. The
truth is that I'm a bad person,
but that's going to change, I'm
going to change. This is the last
of this sort of thing. I'm cleaning
up and I'm moving on, going straight
and choosing life. I'm looking
forward to it already. I'm going
to be just like you: the job, the
family, the fucking big television,
the washing machine, the car, the
compact disc and electrical tin
opener, good health, low
cholesterol, dental insurance,
mortgage, starter home, leisurewear,
luggage, three-piece suite, D.I.Y,
game shows, junk food, children,
walks in the park, nine to five,
good at golf, washing the car,
choice of sweaters, family
Christmas, indexed pension, tax
exemption, clearing the gutters,
getting by, looking ahead, to the
day you die.
THE END